Retreat, Mac!
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: Think of the episode Retreat, Hell: What if Mac had fallen off the Admiral's chair and hit her head instead of Harm? What would her visions of Harm have been?
1. Part I

**Retreat, Mac!**

**Disclaimer: **JAG and its characters are the property of Bellisarius Productions. I'm just borrowing them for my, and hopefully other people's, entertainment. No monetary gain is made from this endeavor.

**AN:** Thanks go out to Staz, my wonderful beta reader, fact finding helper and enthusiasm-provider!

**AN:** This story was originally written for the 'What If' ficathon – therefore, warmest thanks go out to Becky, who provided this great idea for the story:

"**Retreat, Hell"** – What if Mac had fallen off the Admiral's chair and hit her head instead of Harm? What would her visions of Harm have been?

The basic storyline of the episode stays essentially the same, with Harm being acting JAG in the Admiral's absence – except that it'll be Mac that hits her head. Nothing else of what actually happened in the episode matters much for this story. In fact, the story makes perfect sense whether you've ever seen the episode or not. But those of you who _have_ seen it might recognize an occasional line of original dialog that I recycled to my advantage, LOL!

**o o o o o o **

_**Retreat, Mac! **_

How did the exact wording of that particular decision go again? For the life of her, she couldn't remember. She wracked her brain, but to no avail. Damn it, she really needed that information _now_! She supposed she could go look it up at the library downstairs, but the idea of leafing through countless legal volumes seemed daunting.

In a flash of memory, she suddenly remembered where she had read about that decision the first time she came across it. Wasn't that book in the Admiral's office now? Elated, she hopped off her chair and made her way to his office. The Admiral was on leave, and Harm had momentarily taken over the post and the office space. Tiner wasn't at his desk, so she knocked but received no answer. Carefully, she opened the door and peeked inside. It was empty. Damn. She really could have used Harm's help; the shelf that the book was on was really high up. Oh well, she was a Marine, she could manage herself.

Purposefully, she strode into the Admiral's office and grabbed his chair, wheeling it over to the bookcase where her volume was on. She climbed carefully onto the chair, first on her knees, the lifted up on her feet, trying to hold herself steady by grabbing onto the backrest. When she had found her balance, she let go of the backrest and straightened up to reach the book. So far, so good – it wasn't too wobbly. She could do this. She had to go up on her tip-toes to grasp the back of the book, but she managed to get a hold of it with her fingertips, and pulled it down.

More secure now, she bent back down to hold onto the backrest, and then lowered one foot off the chair towards the ground. She had to hike up her uniform skirt high in order to do so and hoped that nobody would come in at this moment. When one foot was back on the ground, she exhaled, relieved that she'd made it.

Her last thought before she went airborne was, she really shouldn't be climbing in heels. Then the chair shot off on its wheels, with her other foot still on it. A ripping pain shot through her upper thighs when they were forcefully moved in opposite directions, and she lost her footing immediately. For a moment, no parts of her were touching the ground, until gravity unrelentingly took a hold of her and she slammed onto the unforgiving floor with her six, her back, and her head.

When she came to, she had to force a few calming breaths out of her lungs to signal to her brain that she was okay. Her head hummed loudly, and she saw tiny blinking stars all around her. She wiggled toes and fingers, then legs and arms, until she was satisfied to find that nothing was broken. Suddenly, there was a rush of air next to her ear, and a large body dropping down beside her.

"Mac, Sweetheart?" Harm's voice penetrated the fog. Sweetheart? "Oh baby, are you alright?" And now he called her baby? Maybe she wasn't alright after all. She tried to lift up her head and upper body, but his hands were on her shoulders, forcing her to remain lying down.

"Stay down, baby, we're going to call a doctor." She didn't want to see a doctor, didn't need it. She was okay, well mostly anyway.

"I'm okay," she forced her voice to work. He looked at her with concern in his beautiful eyes. She wanted to melt in them and never come back out. When she struggled again, he helped her up into a sitting position, and she relaxed her back against the book case.

"Just need a minute to get my bearings, Harm."

"Take all the time you need," he answered, then settled down next to her, equally leaning his back against the bookcase. They sat there for long minutes in undisturbed silence broken only by the sounds of their tandem breathing. When she felt she was ready, he helped her up, and she retreated towards her office. Harm's still slightly concerned gaze rested on her until the door was closed and he could no longer see.

**o o o o o o **

"Ma'am," Tiner stuck his head through Mac's office door an hour and 46 minutes later, "Commander Rabb would like to see you."

"Thanks, Tiner. Tell him I'll be right there."

Two minutes later, she made her way toward the Admiral's office and knocked. At Harm's call of 'Enter', she opened the door, but the view presented to her immobilized her immediately. Instead of being seated in the chair, Harm stood in front of the window, gazing outside. When he became aware of her, he turned around, almost in slow motion, with a serene smile on his handsome face. Her tummy took an immediate nose-dive at his appearance. Instead of his uniform, he was dressed in a tux, and held a single, yellow, long-stemmed rose in his hand. How did he know that yellow was her favorite color when it came to roses? And oh, did he look good in a tux. She felt all her extremities starting to tingle.

He took a few steps away from the window and towards her. "It's time I take my wife for our first anniversary dinner," he announced in a voice lazed with love and erotic undertones. Then he held out his hand to her, and her feet, with a mind of their own, made their way over to him in a heartbeat. "Are you ready, Princess?" And all she could do was smile.

"Mac, are you ready?" His voice, more insistent now, penetrated her happy bubble, and she blinked against the sudden cobwebs in her brain. When she opened her eyes again, she found that she was still standing in the doorway, and Harm was sitting behind the desk. Wearing his uniform.

"What?" She croaked.

"I asked whether you are ready? For the court-martial tomorrow morning? Where were you just now?"

In her dreams, that's where she had been. The ones that would never come true. She sighed and straightened her spine.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fully prepared for it."

"Okay. Oh, and I have another small case for you. Just a DUI charge, of a Petty Officer…," he consulted his notes, "Martin. I'll bring the file by your office later?" He was quite concerned now; she seemed rather out of it. "Is your head okay?"

"Sure, it's fine." She rubbed the back of her head with her thumb, smiling sheepishly. "You know, us Marines, pretty hard-headed…"

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm okay. Find me later?" He nodded, and she did a proper turn-about and swiftly left the office. She was thankful for the years of protocol so deeply engrained in her, making her exit appear less like the flight that it actually was.

_TBC_


	2. Part II

_**Disclaimer:**__ For general disclaimer, see Part I._

On we go with Mac's next vision… Short but sweet; I hope you'll enjoy it – it's my favorite. :-)

**o o o o o o**

Her head was still throbbing, but she wasn't going to admit that to anybody, lest they insisted she see a doctor. That was the last thing she needed – a dreaded trip to the hospital. She would be perfectly fine. She flipped over a page in her file that had taken her three reads until she truly comprehended what the words were trying to express. Maybe the next page would be better. She looked up when someone knocked on her door – and all the air left her lungs in a forceful rush. Her mouth dropped open.

In her doorway stood Harm – completely naked apart from a pair of crisp white boxer shorts, a stark contrast to his golden, glowing skin tone. Why would he be naked at the office, she wondered for a mere second, before her mind immediately honed onto more enjoyable things. Her eyes leisurely wandered up his body, roaming from his large strong feet planted on the cold stone floor, over his long, muscular legs and towards his very well filled boxers… Her mouth instantly watered.

Completely unfazed by her ogling, he simply remained standing there, waiting for her to finish her examination. She chased the thin strip of hair that ran up vertically from out of his waistband toward his belly button, and her fingers twitched from wanting to follow in the wake of her eyes. She took all of him in… how his waist was narrowing below his ribcage, how his powerful abdominal muscles rippled under his soft-looking skin. Her gaze settled on his chest – and then, for the second time, her breath caught forcibly in her throat. Not yet having recovered from her initial shock of seeing him in his state of undress, this second one took her even more by surprise.

Lying on his chest was a tiny baby, equally naked apart from the diaper and a pair of knitted pink booties she was wearing. One of Harm's hands was under her diaper-clad bottom, holding the baby up, while the other hand was lightly resting over her head, neck and shoulders, making sure the little one was secure from bouncing her head around, since her neck was not yet strong enough to hold it upright on her own. Said tiny head, covered with wisps of soft-looking, dark-brown hair, was nestled trustfully in the crook of his neck.

"Our daughter is hungry, Mac," he suddenly whispered, all the while walking over towards her desk. He smiled at her, a smile so warm and tender as she had never before seen on him, and her heart started to ache.

"I'm afraid I can't help her with that," he winked, then lifted this tiny, beautiful, perfect being off his chest. All at once, the strangest sensations were claiming her body. All the muscles in her womb contracted forcefully, warmth rushed through her and pooled heavily in her belly, and her breasts felt full and almost painfully achy. Every instinct kicking in, her arms reached out.

"Give her to me, Honey." But when she pulled her arms back, they came up empty. Her vision swam, and she blinked it back into focus. There was no more baby, no more naked Harm. Instead there was 'normal' Harm slowly coming back into focus, properly dressed in his uniform, a file folder in his outstretched hand. The sudden sense of loss was so strong that she had to close her eyes, while her knees turned wobbly.

Harm was growing increasingly worried. She had stared blankly at him, not saying a word, ever since he entered her office. He was sure she hadn't heard a word he had been saying to her, while her eyes continued to focus on a world far away while her facial expressions had run a gamut of emotions he couldn't make sense of. When he was closer, he had held out the file to her, and instead of taking it, she had risen from her chair, outstretched both her arms, and called him 'Honey'. He was stunned into speechlessness. When she suddenly swayed unsteadily on her feet, he quickly reached for her while throwing the file in the general direction of her desk, not caring where it actually landed. His hands grabbed her elbows, holding her steady until he could feel that she had stopped wavering. "Mac," he called out to her softly, "Mac, are you alright?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and he was shocked to see an almost palpable sadness reflected in them. A sadness that he couldn't comprehend where it had come from so suddenly. It took mere seconds until her strong walls were back in place, her Marine strength and will replacing every personal emotion – he could literally observe the transformation taking place.

"Yeah, I'm ok… I was just…" She extracted herself from his grasp, and moved to sit back down behind her desk. "Really," she looked up at him, "I'm okay now. What do you have for me?"

"Oh, just the…" He bent down to pick it up off the ground, "…Martin case file we talked about earlier." He handed it over. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you really should see a doctor."

"Harm, I'm fiiiiine." She stretched out the word in a way that told him she was getting exasperated by people telling her to go see a doctor. It was her decision, she was a grown-up, after all. He shrugged.

"How about I finish these two files, and then take off a little earlier tonight. Would that satisfy your care-taking urges?" She smiled an honest smile at him; truth be told, she really liked it when he tried to be protective. It were these rare moments that allowed her to pretend for a while that he might think differently of her than just 'the girl next door,' or 'best buddy Mac.'

"Ok, have it your way, Marine. But if you don't get out of here soon, I'll make it an order. You know I can do so now!" Smiling slightly triumphantly, he left her office.

It took Mac a very long time to concentrate on her files again while she simultaneously fought with the overwhelming urge to cry.

_TBC_


	3. Part III

_**Disclaimer:**__ For general disclaimer, see Part I._

On with the show… visions and their implications...

**o o o o o o**

For such a short and easy day at work, she sure was pretty exhausted when she got home. The first thing she did was soak her aching and bruised body in a steaming hot, fragrant bubble bath for an hour. When she felt remotely human again, and very wrinkly, she wrapped herself in a thick, fluffy bathrobe, combed her wet hair away from her face, too lazy to blow-dry it, and was ready to settle on her couch to watch the news. She had barely sat down when there was a knock on her front door. Sighing, she got up again and opened.

She should have known Harm would come over to check up on her. She could only imagine what he must have thought at their bizarre encounters ever since she took that fall this morning. Still in his uniform – never mind dress whites, she really was a total sucker for his winter dress blues, but she wasn't going to tell him – he leaned against the door frame with a smile on his face. A smile she had never seen directed at her either… it was sexy and suggestive. Her heart plummeted straight down her tummy.

"There's a snowstorm moving in." His voice was dark, raspy, lazed with innuendo, and she found her knees buckling. "Perfect opportunity to come home and make love with you in front of the fireplace."

Her mouth dropped open and she could only stare at him. God, she hoped she wasn't drooling. She hardly noticed that she moved closer to him, ever closer, until their faces were mere inches apart. She looked up at him, licked her lips, anticipating his on hers. Almost giddy with the excitement of finally kissing him. "Harm…" she whispered, while her eyes drooped close and her lips neared his…

"Mac," an insistent voice, so un-Harm-like, grated her nerves and rushed over her like a cold shower. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, dejected about having to face the reality that this, once more, had only been a hallucination conjured up by her scrambled brain. The face in front of her morphed into Mic's. His expression anything but happy.

"Did you just call me Harm?" He questioned her, unrelenting.

"No, of course not." But she couldn't look at him while she knew that she was lying, and he knew it, too.

"Yes, you did." Mic took a deep breath before plunging ahead, suddenly realizing that this was it. What had been looming over their relationship from the get-go, and even before. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," the expected answer flowing easily out of her mouth, made easier with years of practice but never having sounded so unconvincing. She turned away from the door and walked two steps back into her apartment, needing some distance. "It's just… he's my best friend, Mic…"

Mic followed, walking into the apartment behind her, forcefully and angrily slamming the door closed. She whipped around at the sound, and suddenly, everything about the situation annoyed her. How he just strolled in without asking, as if he owned the place, as if he owned her. Her mind flooded with memories, flashes of how he had done the same thing with her life; had just walked back into it, without asking for her opinion or input; how he made all these life-altering decisions without her; how he had set her ultimatums until he got her where he wanted her. How she, somewhere deep inside of her, in that place where she usually didn't go, felt pressured into giving him what he wanted, demanded. While simultaneously ignoring her heart's deepest desires. How he manipulated her from the very first day. This had nothing to do with love, not for her.

Thirty-nine minutes later, the door slammed, loud and forceful, a second time back into its frame, this time from the outside. Her fingers were bare apart from her Marine Corps ring, and she had once again joined the ranks of the almost 25 million or so single women in the country. She felt incredibly free.

**o o o o o o **

Harm was worrying about Mac. Didn't he always, on some subconscious level? God, she would have his hide if she ever found out; would probably see it as a personal affront against her Marine skills that someone genuinely worried about her well-being. As if one thing had anything to do with the other. Thankfully, she had at least been true to her word and went home early. Now he was home, too, but he had barely made it inside himself when there had been a knock on his door, and Renée in front of it. Resentment bubbled up in him about the fact that he barely had any time on his own these days, but felt immediately guilty about the thought. It wasn't Renée's fault that he had issues.

Renée was quite aware that Harm was preoccupied; miles away from the conversation she was trying to interest him in. She was nothing if not straight-forward, so she plunged ahead. "Harm, what are you really thinking about, just now?"

"Mac," he blurted out, and her face fell.

"Is she your dream girl?"

He immediately scrambled to salvage what he could. "Sorry, it's not what you think. She just hit her head today," he elaborated, "and seemed a little out of it, but of course, didn't want to go see a doctor… You know how she is…"

Actually, she didn't, nor had she any interest to find out, but that wasn't something he needed to know right now.

"So I'm just a little worried." he continued. "She's my best friend, and I feel as if I should check up on her."

He had the decency to at least look slightly guilty about the fact that he was here with her while thinking about another woman. "Harm, doesn't she have Mic for that?" She felt the need to point out. Unfortunately, he didn't look any happier or more reassured about that fact. "They are getting married, remember." 'Remember?' Her mind chuffed at that. Personally, she was counting the days! Having Mac off the market for good was hopefully going to be the eye-opener Harm needed in order to move forward.

"Harm, tell her to get out of your dreams," she continued when he didn't react, "and then you can have me, and I can have my miracle." She scooted closer to him, her whole attention focused on Harm to make sure that he'd get her meaning. He was a wonderful man, and she had no intention of letting him get away. Her fingers trailed lightly over his cheeks while she, by applying just slight pressure, made him face her. She leaned closer to claim one of his breathtaking kisses…

And suddenly it hit Harm that Renée wanted a future with him, while he simply couldn't imagine the same thing with her. He tried to envision moving in with her, proposing, marrying, a baby, and all he saw was Mac's face. No matter what, he wouldn't be able to give Renée her 'miracle', not now, not ever. It wasn't fair to string her along any longer. He took a deep breath. "Renée, we need to talk…"

About half an hour later, his apartment was once again void of any signs a female had recently occupied it, and he had become part of the 30 or so million single men out there again. He realized that he hadn't been breathing this easily for at least a year.

_TBC_

**AN:**_ It was an immense pleasure for me to get rid of both Mic _and_ Renée in one go! LOL! Stay tuned for the final part!!  
_

_Source of statistical data: US Census Bureau, Statistical Abstract of the United States 2007, Tables 54 and 55 (presented figures refer to census data of 2000 and exclude separated, divorced, and widowed)._


	4. Part IV

_**Disclaimer:**__ For general disclaimer, see Part I._

This is it… last part… grand finale… shipper alert:-) Please enjoy!

**o o o o o o**

It was late when she heard the soft knock on her door. Reluctantly, she untangled herself from the blanket she had been wrapped up in on the couch, worried it might be Mic coming back. She felt in no condition to go through all that with him again. But when the door swung open, it once again revealed Harm. His expression was slightly reluctant, slightly worried. More of what she was used to seeing when he showed up at her doorstep late in the evening. Still, she no longer felt sure she could trust what she was seeing. He didn't say anything, which was strange, since it was him that had shown up at hers. So was he real, or was her mind once more conjuring up images borne by wishful thinking?

Incapable of forming a single word, she instead reached out her hand toward his face. Slowly, reverently, she traced her fingertips over his features, memorizing and comparing every curve and angle, every hill and valley by touch alone. Hoping that touch, instead of vision, could assure her that he was really there.

Her caresses wandered over his cheekbones, the rims of his ears, his forehead. Her fingertips stroked across the bridge of his nose, the arcs of his eyebrows, traced the swing of his lips and learned the curves of his jaw. Her fingers were so soft, warm and loving. Stroking trails of fire over his skin. His knees almost buckled. None of Renée's even bolder touches had ever invoked as much feeling and emotion in him as Mac's soft, innocent caresses.

Once more, she seemed in a daze, in a world of her own, and the worry he felt for her nagged at the edges of his brain until he had the wherewithal to withdraw from the delicious torture. He took a hold of her hand and shook her lightly, until she finally seemed to snap out of her trance. A soft, just this side of embarrassed smile played upon her lips.

"Hi," she whispered. She didn't know why she felt the need to whisper.

"Hey." His answering smile turned her insides gooey.

"Ah, come on in." She stepped aside, and he entered her apartment.

"Mic isn't here?" It suddenly occurred to him that she was engaged, and maybe he shouldn't have shown up quite so late at night.

"No, he isn't," she answered, while making her way over to the kitchen to put on the kettle for some tea. "And he won't be back anymore either…" She mumbled that last part, mostly to herself, but of course, he had heard it.

"What? Why?"

"We broke up, Harm. I just finally admitted to myself that this just wasn't working." There was so much more to it, but that needed to be left for another time, another day… when she was more coherent, more capable of facing her demons; the ones that she had allowed to once more oppress her, and the ones that came back swiftly, now that she was alone again, naturally.

"When did that happen?"

"Tonight, actually."

He chuckled. "So I guess your evening was as interesting as mine…" She threw him a questioning look. "I broke up with Renée."

"What? Why?" Now it was her turn to ask the very same questions.

"Irreconcilable differences…" he hedged. But she didn't buy it; her pointed look and single quirked eyebrow said more than any words could. Had she ever really bought his diversionary tactics?

"Commitment issues. I finally realized that she wanted what I couldn't give her, not when…"

Her breath caught. "When what?" Her eyes were large and questioning, big brown pools of warmth that he could drown in if he ever let himself. Was it really the right time to answer this question truthfully now, after a tandem break-up? Was there really a way out of _not_ answering her honestly at this point? They were both here, in the same place, at the same time, unattached, and wanting.

He turned away from her for a moment and dropped heavily onto her couch. "You called me Honey today." He had to smile at the memory; it had felt good. Right. "Where did that come from?"

Trying to hide her awkwardness over the question, she fiddled with her fingers, entwining them, studying her nails. "Harm, I was… sort of…" She twisted her Marine Corps ring around her finger. "… daydreaming…" She still couldn't look him in the eyes, but dropped down on the sofa next to him.

"About me?"

She nodded in affirmation, but still didn't look at him. She looked so beautiful. Her hair was mussed up, she was wearing a huge bathrobe that hid every part of her amazing body, her shoulders were slouched, and she was the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. She was strong and capable, loving and caring, insecure and vulnerable. Every inch of her a mysterious, interlocking contradiction.

The floodgates were open once more, and what he'd merely skirted past earlier at his apartment was now back with full force. His mind raced through countless pictures as if he was looking through a flip-book. He saw flashes of them living together, him on one knee, a ring on her finger, a wedding. Her belly growing with his child inside, buying a house, a baby in her arms. Every step, every aspect of his future – she was there.

He reached for her shoulders to pull her closer towards him. He wasn't hugging her yet, not by a long shot. There was still space between their bodies, a narrow gap that sparkled with the zing of fireworks, the heat of them going up in flames. Finally, she looked up at him, and their gazes locked. Brown mingling with blue and green, the colors of the earth and the sea and the sky. Swirling together. Encompassing the world. Their world.

"Tell me about the dream," he whispered.

"Well, there was you…" Her voice was low and soft, answering every hope and prayer he had held hidden in the deep recesses of his heart. His hand went around her waist. "And?"

"…and me…"

He pulled her closer now, their bodies finally touching from shoulders to hips, and she lost the ability to breathe. "And?"

His face was close now, his lips even closer. Her entire being was tingling, heat rushed into her cheeks. Anticipation. Need. Desire.

"…and our baby…"

And then his lips were finally on hers. She sank towards him, wrapped her arms around his neck, while his mouth claimed her in every imaginable way, and in some previously unimagined. He pulled her impossibly closer, then lifted her up so she was in his lap. At the first connection of their lower bodies, sparks flew and they both moaned simultaneously. They met with urgent need and fiery passion. With aching tenderness and bubbly joy. Their lips finally speaking the language of their hearts. She could now truthfully admit that she had never been truly kissed before, not like this.

Reluctantly, but with an incredible need to do so, she pulled slightly away. Cradled his face in both her hands, and connected with his eyes. "This is really happening? I'm not hallucinating?"

He nodded, solemn and serious. "This is really happening."

The smile that followed threatened to split her face in two. "I love you, Harm." Then threw her arms back around him.

He wrapped her up in his embrace, to underscore his words with every touch he gave. "I love you, too."

And then her mouth was on his again, and his body on hers, and no hallucination could hold a candle to how reality would turn out for Harm and Mac – two people who were finally where they had always belonged. With each other.

_THE END_

_**AN:** I actually had a blast writing this story, and I sure hope you all enjoyed this little excursion! Special Thanks to everybody who has taken the time to review along the way - whenever a review pops in, and I read that you guys enjoy what I write, I get this huge grin on my face, I'm all giddy and excited ... it simply makes my day!! Thank you!  
_


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